I remember my first year on campus. I was frantically running around trying to network, expand my research agenda, cultivate engaging classroom experiences, show up for all the service meetings, and settle into a new city. Over the course of that year, I was productive but exhausted. My days and weeks ran together, with little difference between my work days and my weekends. I worked—a lot.
Occasionally, I found time for travel and spent time with loved ones. But whenever I took time off, I made up for it by working longer hours once I was back at my desk. Home became an extension of my office, and surprisingly, I saw no problem with that.
In the fall of 2018, Hurricane Florence ravaged our city. After an abrupt evacuation and an even more painful return, my mind and body were slowly fading. The fall semester ended with a tragic loss, and I sunk deeply into a hole of despair.
The following semester, I participated in a faculty exchange program abroad. That experience introduced me to a lot of newness, including what had become a novel idea: rest.
Over my semester abroad, God revealed to me how much I had been striving – making my own plans and asking God to bless them after I’d carefully laid out what steps I needed to take. I’d put my faith in my efforts instead of leaning on the Lord. I thought I knew best and just needed to give God my master plan.
My semester abroad felt like rest rehab. God healed my heart of brokenness I didn’t even know I was carrying. I was gently guided in what it truly meant to lay my burdens down, to stop striving. I learned how God desires that we trust more – versus trying to run our own lives. God showed me how to cultivate a life of rest, not waiting for winter, spring, or summer break, but intentionally carving out moments to pause, to retreat, to be replenished each day, each week and every month.
Rest – not work – became a priority as God helped me see that all of my strivings left me tired, resentful, and weary. When I began trusting in the Lord, I created a healthy margin around my work life, cultivated other interests, and showed up more efficiently in the workplace.
Rest can be a long-forgotten practice in academia. Sometimes I still forget. But when I do, I feel God’s gentle nudge saying:
Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light. (Matthew 11:28-30, NIV)
Sabrina T. Cherry
UNC Wilmington